


Midnight, the stars, and you

by FearTheCats



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Female Pronouns for Grell Sutcliff, Grim Reapers, Mental Health Issues, Other, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:34:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28080237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FearTheCats/pseuds/FearTheCats
Summary: Please note! There is a very graphic depiction of suicide in the first chapter! This is a topic that will be mentioned a lot in this so if this is a trigger (as it is for many) this work isn't for you!Everything changed for Ophelia when she was 14, after watching her parents die she pledged her soul to a demon, and later broke that deal when a reaper collected it. Finding out life after death exists is hard, but even more so when you're someone who doesn't want to be alive in the first place.
Relationships: Angelina Dalles | Madame Red/Grell Sutcliff, Grell Sutcliff/Original Female Character(s), Ronald Knox/William T. Spears
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. Midnight, and a rendezvous.

**Author's Note:**

> After getting back into this fandom and working on an old oc of mine this was the result, I'll try and remember to put triggers at the start of each chapter!

They used to tell her that at the beginning there was dark, and then light.

At the start, anyway.

As she heard the knife clatter to the floor, she stumbled to her vanity, her hands over her face, blood smearing across her white cheeks, the liquid life gone from it, currently pouring from the holes in her flesh and through the slice over her contract mark, the weight of her actions finally crashing down on her.

She shakily pulled her curls out of their ribbon, letting it drop to the floor and ran her hands through her hair for what seemed like the last time.

It was oddly peaceful in a way. A heavy feeling of acceptance settled over her. 

She wasn't scared, she was angry, or sad, or any of the other stupid emotions she loved to pretend she didn't feel.

Just impatient.

But what else was there for her to do?

After four years, it had finally come to this.

This was breaking every single rule in every book from all realms. But what other choice did she have?

Her lungs felt like they were filled with water, the overwhelming need to scream replaced with white hot pain, no sound would come out.

No more sound would ever come out.

One last glance in her mirror showed her features protruding from her face, all the spark gone from it, tears settling in the crevice of her now gaping cheek bones.

With as much energy as she had left, she tipped herself back on her chair, the back of it cracking as it hit the wood. An arm reached back to fumble for the photo frame on the floor above her head, bloody fingers smearing themselves over the clear glass, the happy, smiling faces on the paper behind it coated in the thick liquid.

Her eyes fluttered shut and blonde hair, faint with streaks of red, spilled around her shoulders. The tears under her eyes spilt sideways down her cheeks as the vision of the happy trio was etched into her mind.

\--------------------

The man's eyebrow quirked in unhappiness.

It was late. Too late.

He stepped out from the bushes that surrounded the manor, scanning for any hindrances to his target and readjusted the silver frames that were delicately placed on the bridge of his nose. A glance down at the book in front of him let him know that he was just below the targets window.

A subtle crash just moments after let him know he was right.

The garden clippers attached themselves to the fine stone working on the side of the balcony, pulling him up to the large pair of french doors adjacent to the targets room.

The door had been left ajar, a smashed bottle of something lay at his feet, he crouched down and inhaled the scent ever so slightly.

Floral, must've been an expensive perfume. The target wasn't intoxicated.

The death was intentional.

It had been a while since the man had faced one of these.

He stepped through the glass doors into the room, his eyes drawn to the woman on the floor.

The clippers plunged into her chest, her record spilt out from her.

Visions of family, past lovers, birthdays, happy events through the lense of an innocent child.

Untill something caught his eye.

A tall shadow from the corner of the screen came into focus. It reached for her hand, a mark burnt its way into her wrist.

A demon...

This stupid, stupid girl had let a reaper take a soul promised to a demon.

Her soul had collected in a bunch above her, some strands swirling with the memories of a life cut short.

The man knew what he had to.

He pulled out his book and flicked to the picture of the girl. In the image her hair was pinned up with pearl and diamond clasps, her lips were painted a dark crimson shade and her lashes long and delicate.

The scene on the floor was very different. Her lips were painted crimson, but in a far different way, her hair was spread out on the floor around her head, although a sickly sort of elegance still remained about it.

He knelt down next to her, nose turned up in disgust as he firmly grasped the hand of the girl, the blood that hadn't faintly crusted into the cracks of her hand smearing across the palm of his pale hand.

He sighed and squeezed the girls hand three times.

The pair vanished from the room.


	2. Your eyes held a message tender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all, for the few people that actually read this I am working on it! I had lots of collage work to do over Christmas so hopefully now that I've gotten a lot of that out of the way update will be faster! A slightly shorter chapter this time, but enjoy! :D

A smack on the back of her head woke Grell Sutcliff from her eleven o'clock nap, imprints of her red hair were pressed into her cheek and papers were scattered over her desk.

The man turned his nose up at the sight. Why did he even bother with paperwork if it was just going to be slept on?

Grell adjusted the glasses on her nose, untangling the black chain and letting them settle gracefully on the bridge of her nose. A smile spread across her dramatic features and she batted her long eyelashes at him.

"Good morning prince charming," she purred, getting to her feet and draping her arms around the man's neck, a cheshire grin on her lips.

The man was definitely not as pleased to be having to see her, as a swift kick was delivered to her shin shortly after.

"I'd rather you didn't speak." The man spoke, his voice a bored, quiet, drawl against the soft bustle of the office.

She opened her mouth to argue, a firm glare shut down any response she had as a pout settled on her red painted lips.

The man motioned for her to follow him, a stack of paperwork was dumped on her hands.

"Will darling, do explain to me what the hell all of this is?" She snapped. She got no reply as he walked down towards the wards. Grell trotted slowly after him.

\---------------

The girls eyes fluttered open.

This certainly was different to her room at the manor…

Painfully different.

The smell of antiseptic and bleach was everywhere around her, the bed was slightly hard and the pillows were flat.

It was enough to make her turn up her nose in discomfort. This sort of hospitality would never have been allowed at the manor.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by the door swinging open, two figures walked in.

Well, rather one walked and the other bounced.

Slightly overenthusiastic for a hospital, in her own opinion.

She could just about see the pair approaching her gurney. Their faces were severely blurry, she concluded that it must've been from the fall she took off of her chair.

But at the moment, that was the least of her worries.

The man with the black hair bowed ever so slightly, his head looking down at the stack of sheets in his hand.

"Greetings, Miss Ambrose." He said. His voice had a sophisticated elegance to it. He had the voice of someone who had obviously been well educated.

It put a sense of hope back into the girls body, perhaps she was going to be okay after all.

"The name there says Ophelia." The redhead at the man's side spoke loudly, snatching a sheet of paper from the man's hands and examining it in disgust. The girl felt her gaze sweep over her.

"Another well-to-do posho, I don't know why you brought me here, Will, it's a bloody waste of my time." Grell sighed after finishing, looking down at the crimson painted onto her nails.

It was chipping already, a shame really. She'd rather liked the shade.

Ophelia glared at the woman in disgust, her hands bunched in her lap.

"I don't care what it says. I haven't asked you to address me as that," she snapped back at her, green eyes never wavering from the woman's own emerald orbs.

The man sighed.

"I do apologize for his- pardon me, her, behaviour. I'm afraid she was born without manners." He glared over at Grell.

"My name is William, please address me as Mr. Spears. I am with the grim reaper association, there are a few things that I will be needing to go through with you."


End file.
